


make the chaos count

by Cloudy



Category: Magic Kaito
Genre: Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-03
Updated: 2019-03-03
Packaged: 2019-11-08 13:53:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,248
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17982314
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cloudy/pseuds/Cloudy
Summary: What was meant to be a sleepover between three friends becomes a sleepover between the two friends in the group who get along the least.Alternately, two boys who are bad at managing their feelings and taking care of themselves get stuck together without their usual mediator.Written for thesagukai creations challengeon tumblr. The theme was first times, and the prompt I received was laughter.





	make the chaos count

**Author's Note:**

> For whatever reason, I had a hard time writing this, but I hope everyone enjoys a little bit of silliness and a lot of being in Saguru's head. 
> 
> Just cause I'm super relieved to have this done and in a hurry to get it up before it's even LATER, it's being posted with no editing. Apologies, and if there's any egregious errors don't be afraid of letting me know. Thanks for reading!
> 
> Coincidentally, if I were faster at typing up my summary and had posted this before midnight, and if February were the length of a normal month, this would not be late. But alas, it is.

Now that Saguru thinks about it, he can’t come up with a time when he and Kuroba have ever been alone for an extended period of time. Hot on KID’s heels, there’s always the task force nearby. At school, even if there is a moment where they’re the only ones in a classroom, it’s never for more than spare minutes at a time.

And now that the moment has come that they really are alone together, Saguru’s not sure what there is to do about it.

The plan had been, as he would recall, a sleepover. Kuroba and Aoko-san would convene at Saguru’s house (“There’s plenty of space,” he’d volunteered) sometime Saturday evening, movies would be watched, fun would be had, and studying would be considered but ultimately not acted upon.

Honestly, Saguru had been pretty anxious about the whole thing. A sleepover was not something he was used to having any part in. The closest he’d gotten in his seventeen years were the times when his cousin would stay over at the manor back in England and they’d stay up too late talking. But that was the easy interaction of people who’d known each other for years, and Saguru was willing to bet this would be monumentally different.

Hosting two guests at his house, as had been the original plan, would be challenging enough. Throw in the fact that Aoko-san and Kuroba were forces to be reckoned with and played off of each other, and consider the fact that Saguru wasn’t even sure if one of them considered him a friend--altogether, this seemed like it would shape up to be a pretty challenging night. 

Saguru does at least appreciate the distraction this offers. Nerves are running high due to a number of reasons, not the least of which being the recent Nightmare heist. Nevermind the things he’d been handling overseas, and the death involved in that heist. The somber air may have lifted some time ago, but that doesn’t mean it wasn’t staying with him. Or with Kuroba, for that matter - who knew how he was holding up?

The one solace was that Kuroba and Aoko-san knew how to interact with each other and keep each other entertained. If all else were to fail, at least he’d be able to let them be and just focus on being a half-decent host and everything would at least be salvageable.

So imagine the way his stomach drops when, shortly after Kuroba has turned up, they both receive a text from Aoko-san signalling cancellation on her part.

As it would happen, Momoi-san is in the middle of some kind of rough patch and needs support.  _ You guys can go on without me though! _ Aoko-san’s cheery messages encourage.

“What the heck?” Kuroba grumbles, adjusting his bag on his shoulder - the one he typically has for school, but Saguru would imagine there’s the expected sleepover attire (and who knows what else) in there now. “This was  _ her _ big idea, and now she’s just cancelling?”

“That does appear to be the case,” Saguru observes, considering just sending Kuroba off.

“Whatever, I got all the way here,” Kuroba grumbles, sliding his shoes off one at a time.

Saguru gives a reluctant shrug of one shoulder, and says as diplomatically as he can, “You’re under no obligation to stick around.”

Kuroba outright snorts at him, a derisive, rude sound. “I guess you have no sense of hospitality,” to which Saguru scowls, but Kuroba pays no mind. “Forget that, I’m staying here. Like I said, I went to the trouble of getting here, it’d be a waste of time to just head home at this point.”

Saguru rolls his eyes. He’s trying for unflappable, he mustn’t let on to his internal floundering. “Right, I’m the rude one. If that’s how it is, though, let me show you around.”

Kuroba is clearly eyeing his surroundings, but he at least has the decency to be subtle about it. Occasionally, this house is utilized for events. Things aren’t outright ornate, but there is the definite implication of money and status in the elegance and precision of the decor.

He takes Kuroba up the flight of stairs, and makes a turn down the hallway that also houses his bedroom. There’s a guest room this way

“Wait, so you live alone?” Kuroba is looking at him out of the corner of his eye before looking at a commissioned art piece on the hall.

“What? It’s not that strange for someone our age.”

“It’s strange when your house is  _ this _ big.” Kuroba gestures grandly to emphasize his point, and his eyes and eyebrows seem to gesture as wildly as his hands do. “Why would one person need this much space?”

Saguru shares the sentiment, but shrugs and takes a page from Kuroba’s book, going for evasion. “It’s totally unnecessary, I agree. So, this room - will it do for a guest room?” He eases the door open.

Kuroba takes a step in, a measured amount of nonchalance in the way he enters the room, but there in the way he holds himself and the way he takes a quick account of the room before stepping in lies a tension that he is clearly trying to hide. So, Kuroba is wound quite tight. Saguru wonders if Kuroba expects Saguru to intentionally lay out a trap for him or if this is a more generalize type of paranoia.

Probably a little bit of both.

Hoping it’ll easy Kuroba’s tensions and suspicions, Saguru decides it best to give him space to get acquainted with the house on his own. Saguru makes his way back to the main area on the ground floor. He wonders what Kuroba’s impression is in regards to the house’s pristine appearance, the blending of Western and East Asian style, the blending of modern and historic aspects. It all makes him a little self conscious showing around someone who’s his own guest, who’s a peer. Aoko-san has already been here once, and he knows she had been in awe. Appraisal, though, is more Kuroba’s forte than hers, he would imagine, and he catches himself being quite conscious of that fact. He knows that Kuroba isn’t interested in thieving - the Hakuba family isn’t in possession of anything that fits into Kid’s M.O. after all. But he can’t help but fixate on whether it affects the way Kuroba thinks of him. Probably, it just reinforces things he already thinks.

He shouldn’t worry about it. There are larger problems to be concerned with than what Kuroba thinks of him. 

It’s hard to relax when having Kuroba here. It’s hard to relax for a number of reasons. He almost hadn’t agreed to spend time with Aoko-san and Kuroba tonight. He’s being pulled in too many directions from his work. The case in London, unsolved, which he had to extract himself from right before coming back for the Nightmare heist, and which he hasn’t heard anything new about. The Nightmare heist itself and the dread that had taken seed in him coming to terrible, awful fruition.

Saguru is studying the pantry in the kitchen when footsteps set him on high alert. “Ha--” Kuroba starts, stopping short at the way Saguru whirls to face the source. 

Realizing what he just did, Saguru eases his shoulders with great effort, and measures out a subdued, sheepish expression. “Sorry, you surprised me.”

Kuroba snorts, but there’s something about the fraction of expression right before the offensive sound that communicated understanding. “What does a detective have to be jumpy about?” he asks, intentionally arrogant. Then he flits to a different subject altogether.  “Sooo, what’s the plan, oh gracious host? I want to do something.”

“Well, we should probably eat at some point, shouldn’t we?” Saguru offers.

 

What began as a discussion of what to eat became disagreement over what to eat, and then culminated in a final decision to bake something, perhaps because it was the thing they had both disagreed with doing at first. 

“Who would have thought a young master such as yourself would have anything to do with baking?” Kuroba needles. Saguru busies himself with setting out the flour and other ingredients. “How often do you actually cook?”

“I’m not completely useless just because I have a Baaya,” Saguru replies, a little defensive, and realizing just how petulant he sounds a beat after he’s said it. Kuroba is smirking, which riles him, but he smooths his tone out, adding, “I spent a lot of time learning from her and helping her, and I still do. There are plenty of nights these days where I just cook for myself, anyway.” 

Kuroba passes him to peer into the pantry. “So, we should make a cake,” he states.

“No, I was planning on making bread,” Saguru replies matter-of-factly.

“Bread?! That’s--why bread?” Kuroba asks, sounding like he has something in his mouth. Saguru turns to him and sees he’s gotten into a bag of chocolate disks - used for melting for chocolate coatings - and has taken some amount and started eating them.

“Because bread is delicious, and comforting, and rewarding,” Saguru replies. 

“I’m the guest, you should make what I want,” Kuroba whines, taking a seat at the counter, across from Saguru. 

“You follow no social niceties, so why should I do so myself?” A childish response, certainly. But can he help himself? Of course not.

Kuroba leans forward, elbows resting on the table. He starts spinning the baking soda container. “You’re just full of surprises, Hakuba. Throwing your manners to the wind, making food all by yourself.” 

Saguru turns a dry look on him, and begins to gather measuring materials, and the other necessary tools he’ll need. “We’re making soda bread,” Saguru dictates. “Because it’ll be done in the hour.”

“Are those raisins?” Kuroba demands in disgust. Saguru looks at the box of raisins in his hand.

“Why, yes, Kuroba-kun! Excellent observation skills.”

“Why,” Kuroba demands emphatically, “do you have raisins out? We’re making  _ bread _ .”

“Soda bread often has raisins in it,” Saguru says, with neutrality. ”Of course, if that’s a problem, we can just skip that ingredient.”

“Raisins in bread is an abomination to mankind.”

“Very well then,” Saguru says, walking back to the pantry to put the raisins away. 

“Oi, Hakuba, c’mere.”

Saguru sighs in annoyance.. He turns back to Kuroba and is met with a faceful of flour.

“What the hell--!” Saguru coughs around the flour and backs up a step, shaking his head in a futile attempt to get rid of it. “Kuroba, are you se--stop!”

Kuroba has thrown a handful of the flour into the air and it clouds. The other boy is cackling in delight at Saguru’s reaction, and is getting more in hand to prepare his next attack.

Saguru storms forward, the same impulsive, bright feeling that he normally feels at heists filling his chest. He reaches quickly (for what yet, he’s not sure, but in Kuroba’s general direction). Kuroba’s eyes widen and it’s right as he’s begun to hold a handful of flour up near his mouth that Saguru tries to grip his shoulder. 

What was going to be an attempt to blow the flour into an explosive cloud right in Saguru’s face is thwarted as Kuroba inhales sharply while avoiding Saguru’s grasp, and begins coughing harshly. The attempt had backfired.

Saguru finds himself choking on laughter, a sputtering sound that comes out louder than he’d intended. This is interrupted as Kuroba gets his bearings and lunges for the flour bag on the counter at the same time Saguru begins to reach for it.

Saguru is reminded distantly of a different mad dash for a different object, surrounded with different kinds of clouds. Sleeping gas had been encroaching, the gas mask had been the one sure part of the plan to keep Saguru ahead, and he’d lost it. He’d been so adrenaline-fuelled. It was similar this time, but tinged with more amusement and less urgency.

They both make contact with the flour bag at the same time. With fervor, Saguru pulls the bag toward him. Kuroba starts to pull as well, and then promptly relinquishes his grip.

In the excitement, Saguru was not nearly quick enough to react to the change in momentum, and he pulled the flour bag so forcefully that he spilled a good deal of it--on himself, on the floor, on the counter.

It was Kuroba’s turn to collapse into laughter, a gleeful sound that was less snickering and more akin to a giggle. 

Saguru knew that the appropriate reaction would be annoyance, but he was far past appropriate reactions. His body was light, his chest bursting, a weight gone from his shoulders, if only temporarily. Despite the events leading up to this, it feels less like he is the butt of a joke and more like they created this scenario together. To say Kuroba’s laughter is infectious would be an understatement. Saguru leans against the counter, relinquishing the now more than half-empty flour, half-heartedly flicking residual flour on his hand in Kuroba’s direction. Kuroba sits on the floor, trying to clear flour from his eyes, his giggles dying down to softer sounds that he’s gotten a better grip over.

When Saguru manages a look at Kuroba’s expression, he thinks he seems less drawn, less pulled away.

Perhaps all they both needed, at least for now, was something to free them of the weight of the world for a bit. They do say laughter is the best medicine.


End file.
